Freezing

Power outage all night. Still shivering now. Wildfires all over California. Smoke from one over Bay Area.

I/m still having trouble eating and am very weak from that & the drug reaction. Having great difficulty walking.

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Impeachment (Lack of) Drama

No matter how hard Democrats and the national media outlets try to frame the impeachment inquiry as dramatic, it simply is not. It's boring. As one with a natural interest in politics, and one tuned into CNN many hours a day, I'm not buying it.

I wish that I could. Being a retired journalist is, frankly, boring. I'd appreciate a better TV show.

Trump comes across as a disease-ridden combination of bully and victim. Hardly unique, of course. There are still lots of white people who, despite privileges they are barely cognizant of, feel they have been victimized by people of other colors.

That is pure bullshit.

Trump is a nightmare for America. He is, to date since 1776, America's worst nightmare.

But he was inevitable, given how our country is changing.

And he may well survive impeachment, given the state of partisan politics in this country, and win a second term the same way he won his first -- by stirring the pots of racist hatred in the South and Midwest.

If so, we are in big trouble.

But why should I care? I am 72, sickly, and very weak. I try to employ the methods of OT/PT every day, but the truth is I am a frail old man. Some days, I wake up expecting to die. Other days I still feel the fire to care.

Let's hope this is one of those lovely other days,


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Early Friday

Today is my youngest grandson Oliver's 8th birthday. He is such a joyful kid to be around -- I miss seeing him!

My drug reaction is over finally. I am weaker than when I left the hospital, but trying to eat at least nominally.

Not enough energy to write yet; hopefully soon.

Home health-care nurse did not show up yesterday. That is weird.

I'm pleased to be home but yearn for company. I knew retirement in my case would be lonely.

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First 18 Hours: Mixed

I got a lot of The cleanup accomplished before I started to have what I believe is a bad reaction to a new drug--Naltrexone. Terrible chills and shaking. Hard sleeping.

But I am up now & it's a new day. I'm not going to take that drug again!

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Home

Aidan and Kelsey sprang me from the loving prison I was in. So I am home. Trying to be free again.

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As I Wait...

Here on my last morning being institutionalized, my roommate has already repeated his usual litany of questions, i.e., "Do you know who Michael Jordan is? "Willie Mays?" "Babe Ruth?"

Meanwhile, I'm trying to watch CNN and assess the impeachment inquiry.

My memoir has been revised; it stays at ~25,000 words. I'm considering contacting an ex-agent I know and an agent I don't know.

Having left my place in a mess the night I called 9-1-1, I've become obsessed with cleaning it up today. I have a detailed plan for cleaning up the messes.

It may seem strange, but being retired has definitely reduced the focus of my thoughts.

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Farewells

The PT folks in particular have been stopping by to say good-bye. Some nurses too. The people who work here are good people, mostly young, mostly people of color, and educated.

They are kind and try to be patient with the people who just won't try.

They kindly say they hope they will not see me here again. Me too.

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Racism From the Top

The President used the word lynching to describe the impeachment process he is facing.

Lynchings were among the most shameful acts in our nation's history.

By doing this, Trump is evoking our racist past to build political support for not being removed from office, which he obviously deserves to be.

He is beyond shame.

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The Incredible Advantage

Having worked as a professional writer my entire adult life, writing my memoir feels like a natural act at this point. There will be ups and downs during the process, but I am used to that.

But in my experience, including in this facility, almost every elderly person wants to review his or her life. My roommate tells me and every care-giver the same set of simple facts of what he can remember of his life every single day.

His condition is mysterious -- one factor the medical staff rules out is alcohol or drug abuse. He is and has never been an addict.

He is very sweet and well-meaning. But he just keeps repeating himself over and over, frustrating everyone. I'm wondering whether he had an undiagnosed stroke?

He'll never write a book.

***

There are many obstacles to ever getting my book published; I recognize that. But I'm proceeding as if it will.

One reason is that I am writing it for me. Another is for my family. A third is for my many colleagues over the decades. Finally, the book has a clear purpose: to explain journalistic practice in the hope we can preserve its integrity.

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Freedom Calls

Remember that old Kris Kristofferson line, “Freedom’s just another word for nothin’ left to lose”? 

Well maybe. Freedom is also escaping from your hospital bed when it feels like your death bed.

Today is my last day in this facility. Tomorrow I go home.

Slicing up the night worked well last night. Many hours of music; around 8 hours of sleep!

I feel optimistic this morning.

Confirmed

I am going home Wednesday 9 a.m.-10 a.m. Aidan will get me.

Then I'll have home health care for a while.

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Communicating: Multiple Channels

As I attempt to construct my memoir, I find my thoughts and memories are separating out into multiple channels.

There is the book-writing itself. Every day I rewrite, cut and add material to the draft, which sits at 25,000 words.

There is this blog, where I explore thoughts and feelings through the lens of current experiences.

Then there are the conversations with friends-- in person, via email, or increasingly, during phone calls.

These all will eventually merge into whatever narrative form I can achieve.

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Before Morning Light

It's 6 a.m. Monday and I'm counting the hours until I go home two days from now.

In a conversation with a friend over the weekend, I realized there is another aspect of my life I will need to weave into my memoir: anxiety.

Since childhood, I have invented various coping mechanisms to handle this anxiety, with varying degrees of inadequacy.

***

Spent the night from about 9 p.m. on in time slices (like pie slices). Sleep a bit. Listen to music a bit. As I penetrate further into the far corners of YouTube, I discover song after song I'd almost forgotten. They are still around; you just have to wait on the algorithm to find them for you...

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An Institution Like This

It needs to consider the psychological consequences of forcing someone like me to share a room with people like these. I didn't come here for mental health treatment but for physical therapy.

I'll never willingly return here. The experience is too searing.

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Misery

Sometimes when I awake from a nap, I cannot believe this is really me, trapped in hell. The Chinese man in the next bed yells into his phone. He drives me crazy.

The other roommate asks me the same set of meaningless questions over and over. He drives me crazy.

I have no way to shut out this noise pollution. I feel utterly isolated -- penalized for being sick. Why does it have to be this way?

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Loyalty and Betrayal

Trump's sudden withdrawal of U.S. troops from the region of Syria where our allies, the Kurds, helped us battle ISIS, is one of the most egregious actions by a Commander in Chief in U.S. history.

This blatant betrayal of a loyal ally is inexcusable. It is equally dishonorable that Trump did it to help his buddy, the Turkish dictator, who wants to seize the area and apparently will soon.

I cannot fathom any American with military experience not being outraged by these treasonous actions. He deserves to be impeached and removed from office.

He is a traitor.

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Treatment Helps

The doctor on duty popped the boil and drained it. I'll go on antibiotics for a week.

The pain is gone.

***

I'm still scheduled to go home on Wednesday. What a relief!

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Another Health Issue, etc.

I fear this has become little more than a medical journal when I'd wanted it to be so much more. For years I've had a small growth on the back of my left shoulder. My doctor said It was nothing to worry about -- it was pliable and not hard when he touched it.

In recent years it has grown somewhat and changed colors, including to red. I feel it more, whereas before I didn't feel anything there.

This weekend it has suddenly started hurting -- so much so I cannot lay on my left side. I can't sleep on my back for fear of aspiration and I've never slept on my stomach. So now there is only one position I can sleep in -- on my right side.

I'm a restless sleeper to begin with, so staying confined to one position is further disrupting my sleep. I was up before 5 and am facing another sleepy day. This saps my strength and endangers the progress I've made.

***

The thing that angers me about Presidential politics is when candidates make promises about things not in their control. Trump takes credit for U.S. economic growth but his actions have had nothing to do with that.

An aging population is removing many of us from the workforce. We are being replaced by younger, cheaper workers -- a good thing. As the jobless rate falls, wages slowly rise. When Americans have more money they spend more money.

What these early-stage career workers *should* be doing is saving money. That would not help exploitative politicians brag about their economic success, but it would help begin the process of building a self-sustaining retirement some day.

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